… and a housekeeper to keep the dirty laundry pile from reaching my chin (thus reducing my guilt levels when indulging in below activities):

1. Paint the house. Now most everyone knows that I abhor manual labor, but I do quite enjoy being married and the hubby is a bit uptight about our still-unfinished paint job. We have a second coat on the back and a large portion of the trimwork to go.

2. Create a facebook account for my dad. I really think he’d enjoy the “social networking” life, but he’s a bit technologically challenged to do it (even more so than my mom, who called the other day for a tutorial in “attaching to the emails”). I’ve already been keeping an eye out for profile pics and have created a list of his interests and activities (corn hole, OSU football, vacationing, joining fraternal organizations, eating at Subway, gambling and feeding H blueberries).

3. Read Time or Newsweek magazine. Someone left an issue in the bathroom at the lake and I realized how much I missed it. I’d also like to catch up on Relevant and see if there’s a shred of hipness left in me.

4. Go to story time at the library. No, not by myself, but if I had time to do other things, I could stop trying to get them done with the kids and instead take them to fun things like story time.

5. Bake blueberry muffins.

6. Upload all our checkbook info into Quicken and do a quarterly report. Yes, I’m that person. Do you have ANY idea the happiness this would afford? Add 2 points if we are actually spending less than we’re earning.

7. More bike rides and walks with SC. Those are delightful.

8. Order my bookclub book from the library. I was getting ready to do it the other day when I realized that BC is this week! KLR said it was “interesting” so I’m not in a rush.

9. Make something with cream cheese to take to bookclub on Thursday so they don’t make a secret ballot to kick me out.

10. Blog more. I think I get less interesting with more time away. This has served as a decompression time of sorts and if I don’t do it regularly things get all jumbled up in there. Kind of like a mental constipation. Now there’s a pretty analogy.

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